Page 5 of One Chance to Stay (Bears of Firefly Valley #4)

Jason: Amanda’s dragging me to the ice rink.

Amanda: Dragging? Says the boy with his own skates.

Jon: Don’t forget the sparkly spandex.

Jason: …

Jon: Patrick, keep me company?

My bitterness shrank at the beauty of snow.

When it wasn’t threatening my life, the slow fall of tiny white flakes had a magic about it.

The winter hush left me with the sound of my breathing.

I walked into the center of town, stopping to wiggle my toes against the thick wool yarn.

Evelyn had left them hanging on my door with a note, “Stay warm.”

I had overslept and missed the chance to sample the cuisine at Maine on Bistro. Evelyn had made lasagna for the three guests at the bed-and-breakfast. Each plate in the fridge had a small plate next to it, with a slice of blueberry pie. The people in Firefly took their baked goods seriously.

“Firefly, you’re a quirky place.”

The town had an idyllic quality during the summer. The downtown could have been the model for all small towns around America. With a layer of snow on the ground, it transformed into the picture-perfect New England town.

As I roamed down the center of the green, I could hear the squeals of children. The sun vanished just after dinner, but the dark didn’t deter the residents. They had frozen a giant rectangle at the bottom of the green, and nearly a dozen people were skating in oblong circles.

Jon sat on a bench to the side, waving his arms to get my attention.

I gave him a wave and headed in his direction.

After a day of sitting in bed writing in my journal, I could use a distraction.

Something had percolated to where I couldn’t tell the difference between happiness and content.

I had written out columns, creating lists to shake out this feeling in my chest. When I stood on the side of a mountain, the world laid out before me, I could swear the answer had been within reach.

I couldn’t help but crack a smile. Once upon a time, every epiphany started because of something a girl had said, mostly as they packed their bags and left.

This time, it wasn’t a tragedy that started the questioning.

It wasn’t the kiss, not exactly. It was what it stirred up.

Questions I hadn’t asked. I wasn’t even sure what I was feeling—only that I hadn’t stopped feeling it since.

The moments leading up to it, where I sat and tried to reach this man, who was having a terrible night.

Something I did caused that reaction. His scruffy lip pressed against mine highlighted the fact that it helped.

Reaching people was my superpower, but something about this one tugged at me.

I could make a joke about the whole situation, but something about that didn’t feel quite right.

This would require more than journaling.

I needed air. People. Something real to ground me again.

“Wasn’t sure you’d brave the cold two nights in a row.”

Too soon. I frowned at Jon. “If it wasn’t for your sister’s knitting, I’d still be in bed.” I pulled my hands out of my pockets to reveal multicolored mittens. “And socks to match!”

“Seriously though, are you okay?” I climbed onto the cement table, taking a seat next to him. “I was stuck shoveling in front of the library last night. Trying to score brownie points with Tyler after he found out I don’t like Charles Dickens.”

“I’m good. Not sure why I’m sitting out in the cold willingly, but otherwise, okay.” I wouldn’t last long. I’d put in some face time, and then I’d head back to the bed-and-breakfast and take a nice, long soak in the tub. The water heater was going to get a workout.

“Wait.” It took a second before I remembered he dated a librarian. “Who doesn’t like Dickens?”

He threw his arms up in the air. “Not you, too.”

On the ice, I watched as Amanda skated backward, holding the hands of a young girl. When she let go, and the girl’s arms pinwheeled before she caught her balance. Amanda cheered loud enough that we could hear her enthusiasm.

I scanned the crowd looking for… “Wow.” In the middle of the ice, I spotted the big guy spinning in circles. As he brought his arms in tight, the spinning sped up until he was almost a blur. With a well-placed skate, he flew backward, kicking up a sheet of ice as he ground to a halt.

Jon must have seen my jaw drop. “I wasn’t kidding. He still has the leotard. Bedazzled and shiny. The whole nine yards.”

“Firefly is full of surprises.”

“Not to be nosy?—”

“That’s a lie,” I said.

“Totally being nosy.” Jon laughed. “What happened last night?”

I explained how I found a house and caught Seamus before he went to bed. As I recounted the events, I left out details. Something about the folded clothes and the breakfast felt intimate . Jon’s upturned eyebrow said he wanted more, but I kept those moments in confidence.

“Do you know him?”

“Seamus?” Jon shook his head. “I mean, I know of him like I do every person in Firefly. He keeps to himself.”

I wanted to know why he lived on the outskirts of town.

Everybody here seemed part of the community, like an extended family.

They might be up in one another’s business at all times, but it was always done with the best of intentions.

Yet, Seamus sat on the outside, not far enough away to be a hermit, but far enough to be a stranger in his own community.

If Jon didn’t know anything about him, I’d have to go to the source.

“Come on,” I said.

“What?”

“We’re going on the ice.” I hopped off the table and offered my hand. “Unless you’re scared.”

“We don’t have skates.”

Despite his protests, he took my hand. I couldn’t stand on the sidelines and let Jason and Amanda have all the fun. We crunched through the snow until we reached the ice. I charged forward, sliding into the middle of the rink.

“Too scared for skates,” Amanda said, moving in a slow circle around me.

“I’d say a big boy on skates is dangerous.” Jason stopped short, kicking up a shower of ice. “How could I compete with that?”

“You couldn’t,” Jason said. He moved up behind me and gripped my waist. As he pushed, Amanda took my hands, guiding me along. I remained rigid as they pulled me around the ice.

Meanwhile, Jon’s arms flailed as he stepped onto the ice.

He had barely made it three feet before he tumbled and sprawled.

If that wasn’t funny enough, the young girl giggling at his mishap made me laugh out loud.

When Amanda let go and Jason gave a final push, I could feel my knees shaking.

A second later, I skid along my stomach until I bumped into the snow bank.

The universe had paid me back in spades.

Amanda hovered over me, shaking her head. “Maybe you should stick to snowmen.”

I rolled onto my back and shucked a snowball at her. Her face turned to shock as she looked down at the circular splatter on her chest.

“I was hoping you’d come with martinis in hand.”

“Blue Lagoons,” I laughed. When she raised an eyebrow, I shook my head. “Inside joke.”

“But now…” She skated to the snow bank. Dipping down, she scooped up a pile of snow and pressed it into a ball. “It’s time for revenge.”

I tried scrambling to my feet. Getting to my knees was as far as I could get.

Glancing over my shoulder, she wound back, my ass in the air, an exposed target.

Another splat of white hit Amanda in the chest. Not far away, Jason held a second snowball, ready to fire.

He hit my shoulder, snow finding its way inside my jacket.

“Snowball fight!” Amanda roared.

The skaters bolted for snow banks, ducking for cover as they went. Parents and kids alike armed themselves. When Amanda hurled a snowball, the powder sprayed across Jason’s face. Havoc ensued. Before I could laugh, the skater Amanda had coached landed a snowball against the side of my face.

“Oh, you’re in trouble!” As I reached for another handful of snow, it felt as if the entire rink had picked me as their target. Did they practice in their yards? Pitch after pitch pelted my backside. “Cease fire! Cease fire!”

Of course, they ignored my pleas.